Deep Down

I’ve been praying for acceptance and for peace.  Whatever happens, I’ve been saying, I just want to be able to handle it.

Acceptance and peace.

These are the two things I also dread.  I feel them creeping around in the back of mind.  They whisper in pseudo-scientific mumbo-jumbo; you’re already thirty-two, and you’re not very fertile to begin with.  Just be happy with what you have.

The truth of the matter is that I dread being happy with what I have.  I dread the day I proudly proclaim that my only living child is a miracle and that I’m at peace with the size of our family.  It feels like settling and it feels like giving up.

I dread the day I’ve accepted all of this and am at peace with it because I know when that happens it will be over.  Everything I currently want with every fiber of my being, every hope and dream I have will be over.  Knowing that I will regret many things about the last four years if it turns out that this was the only chance I’ll ever have at this.  How cruel it will seem that the job I took to keep my depression and anxiety at bay after my pregnancy, that my mental health, robbed me of my only chance to fully experience my child as a baby and a toddler.

I try not to say this very often, but it’s just not fair.

I don’t actually want acceptance and peace.  I don’t want to go through this no matter whom I’m helping or inspiring.  I want what I don’t have, what I may never have.

Accepting a will and a plan that is not yours is so hard and so frightening and deep down, I don’t want to.

9 thoughts on “Deep Down

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  1. I am in the same boat. My daughter just turned four and we not been able to give her a much wanted sibling. Instead we have experienced multiple miscarriages. Thank you for being so honest as your thoughts are also mine. It helps knowing I'm not alone.

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  2. “I don't want to go through this no matter whom I'm helping or inspiring.” Yeah, I hear you. People like to tell me that good is coming from our losses or that we're inspiring, and I always think (and sometimes say): That's great, but I'd rather have my babies back. I'm working on accepting God's plan too. I don't always like his plan, but I think it's possible to accept it without liking it. Prayers for you.

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  3. Hi Molly,
    I hopped over to your blog after commenting on your comment on Mama Needs Coffee.

    This post gets right to my heart, especially this part: “Knowing that I will regret many things about the last four years if it turns out that this was the only chance I'll ever have at this. How cruel it will seem that the job I took to keep my depression and anxiety at bay after my pregnancy, that my mental health, robbed me of my only chance to fully experience my child as a baby and a toddler.”

    In different ways, but (I think) for some of the same reasons, I *feel* this. I am trying to think of this feeling in productive ways, ways that don't make excuses or justifications, but that help me make sense of what I feel and what I'm doing. I want to have no regrets about doing a job I need and love, about responding to what I truly feel is a calling, all while time is slipping by and my two miracles (I have another in heaven) are growing up in daycare. I want to not regret that, but I do and I don't at the same time.

    But what if God is not judging our time spent at work in the same ways that we judge ourselves? And what if He doesn't judge it in the same ways that others judge it for us? What if he wants us to accept his will, but that doesn't mean we give up wanting more children? Or wanting to work? Or wanting to do both? What if doing his will is living every day in Truth and Love, without worrying for tomorrow?

    I don't have the answers to these questions, but thinking of them *as* questions, and as these *kinds* of questions helps me to be at peace and moves me in the direction of acceptance. I'm praying for you, stranger.

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  4. Your post tugs at me, and I want you to know you have my deepest sympathies. And I just have to say… Maybe now is not the time to pray for both acceptance and peace? Maybe now is the time to be angry or sad, and really feel those things, and assume that acceptance will eventually come if it must. And if you have to pray for something, maybe it can be for a good night's sleep, or for a family with the most healthy and happy offspring you can eventually have?

    Next month, I will be doing our last IVF, after 2 years of fertility treatments. We have a 3 year-old daughter, so we are luckier than most. I'm going into this final treatment with trepidation, excitement, and something that might look like acceptance but in actually is really closer to surrender, to whatever outcome there may be. I have enough faith to trust that if IVF is unsuccessful for us, this resignation will eventually turn to acceptance, and acceptance will eventually turn into peace. I've done all I can do.

    But for me, praying for acceptance would feel too much like giving up. And you are only 32, (I am 43). And, it would also feel too much like praying for more failures and disappointments—because my road to this submission has been so full of them. So please, be careful what you pray for. I envision happy healthy babies are on their way to me, hopefully they are on their way to you too.

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